Chapter 2

Desmond Pike took the fob out of my hand with two fingers, the way you'd pick up something you didn't want to touch.

Then he raised it over his head.

"Ladies and gentlemen." His voice filled the room like he'd been waiting all evening for a reason to use it. "This gentleman says this is the original key to the Sparrow. The original. To a prototype insured for two point four million dollars."

Champagne glasses paused halfway up.

"Which means one of two things," Desmond said. "Either we've had a two-million-dollar key sitting in a drawer for forty years-" he let the room laugh, and the room obliged, "-or this gentleman took it off a display case, and that makes tonight a police matter."

The woman with the Grammys had stopped smiling. The staff had gone still. Near the platform, a security guard in a navy polo put a hand on his radio.

"Mr. Pike," the blonde associate said. "Let him answer."

Desmond didn't look at her. "Vivian, go check the case."

"The case is empty," she said. "It's been empty since Tuesday. I wrote it up."

That landed somewhere in Desmond's face, and he covered it fast.

"The ignition's right there," I said. "Original lock. Never replaced. Try it."

He looked at the bike. He looked at the room. He'd spent the whole evening being the man who knew everything about that machine, and now sixty people were waiting to see if he'd put his hand where his mouth was.

"Fine," he said. "Fine."

He walked to the platform. The guard unhooked the rope for him - nobody unhooked the rope for me - and Desmond stepped up, still holding my key like a trophy.

I watched him fit it to the barrel.

That's when Vivian Cross stepped past the rope.

Not through the staff gate. Past the rope, one long leg over the velvet like she'd forgotten it was there, and the guard's mouth came open, because that is not a thing anyone on that floor is allowed to do.

She wasn't looking at Desmond. She was looking at the key.

Specifically, at the two worn initials stamped into the leather fob.

E.W.

She took out her phone.

Desmond slid the key in.